The Broken Words
by Angelicheartbeats
Summary: He pretended to love him and made him fall into his trap. He abuses him smartly and eventually the prey loses all hope. WARNING - Dark!Alfred.


USUK - The Broken Words.

It wasn't the first time.

It would happen over and over again. It was broken cycle and he hated it. There was no escape. Not a single light. He would never admit he hated it. His lover was smart, skillfull and sly. The way he was struck never left a mark that was visible to others. The mark left on his heart was invisible but ripped it to shreds in the most painful way. It was the way he made him feel. It was the way he kissed him. The way he fell in love.

He lay on the floor; he struck him again.

Arthur was a fragile man. A pretty one at that. His body was slender and he bear small delightful curves. His eyes were beautiful; a sparkling green colour and he had sandy blonde locks that curved around his feminine face. Despite it, he was a strong man which is why it was a surprise when nobody noticed the bruises on his ego.

He should know better.

Alfred was a tall man. Taller then dear Arthur. He wasn't the most muscular looking man you'd ever seen but he was fairly large. In more than one way. That was the most painful part. His glasses sat neatly on his bridge of his nose and his hair remained ruffled with one part sticking up and never seemed to lay flat. The dirty blonde would hug his boyfriend and feed him love mainly around others or when Arthur would threaten to report him after a fight. Which was why Arthur never left. He could never leave the man he loved. However, sometimes he felt like he couldn't take it. The physical wasn't the worst of it. The words he spoke. He was so sly. They had known eachother too long. Alfred knew just where to hit him.

He pretended it was alright. He pretended everything was okay.

Inside, he burnt.

He screamed as the picture of Arthur and Alfred was thrown across the room and hit the wall. It dropped and smashes into the pieces; Alfred's happy grin cut in half. The memories would fade and it would be hard for the smaller male to rememeber. To think that Alfred had turned into something that wasn't like the one he knew and loved.

"Come here you little shit!"

He was pressed up against the wall again. The bite marks, the bruises and scars they lay deep into the milky flesh. He felt the tingling sensation of rough fingernails crawl over his stomach giving him a sickening feeling. It was happening again. Fat tears ran down his cheeks. He shrieked.

"You want to know something Arthur?"

Here we go again. Arthur cried.

"I never loved you,"

Arthur begged, cries of mercy and sorrow flew out his abused lips.

"You're a dirty fucking whore. I hate you, fucking cum-slut. I just wanted to see your unwilling face. The sweet little vunerable face you make when I thrust into that loose ass of yours. You like it, you're so disgusting,"

Alfred pushed Arthur to the floor and kicked him hard in the side causing the Brit to squirm and yelp on the floor. He spat on him and continued to beat him mercilessly. His dirty fingers grabbed his hair and brought him up his weak knees. The green eyes that were once so bright were watering and they seemed to lack the colour they use to have.

Why?

He shut his eyes tightly as the liquid dripped down his red cheeks and off his chin. He didn't want to see. He never wanted to see anymore. He wanted to just die. The only thing he heard in that silent room was the sound of a metal clashing against eachother. The belt was being undone. What was he going today? Beat him with it? Or just rape him? He felt something prod at his lips and he instantly knew his fate for tonight.

"Open your mouth you fucking bitch," he exclaimed, grabbing Arthur's nose and pinching it harshly so the breathing circulation was cut off. His eyes flew open; still raining teardrops and his mouth was forced open so he could gasp for air. The throbbing cock was thrust inside his wet cavern. Alfred groaned and roughly grabbed onto the blonde's hair and made the Brit suck on the manhood as he thrust his hips slightly. It was really more of a mouth-fuck.

Just before he came, Alfred pulled out and held Arthur's nose so his mouth was forced to stay wide and open. His face right now was something Alfred loved. That wanton face that made him look so slutty. He kneeled there bare, covered in the scars of the past with the thick tears raining down. He was broken. Inside and out. Alfred spurted the creamy white fluid over the smaller man's face and into his mouth. He gagged.

Alfred tucked himself back in his jeans and zipped them up.

"You're not worth a fuck today," he remarked, propping up his glasses before leaving the room, letting Arthur lay weakly on the floor, unable to find the energy to wipe the man's semen off his face. Why was he in love? Why did he have to feel this way? Why couldn't his emotions just dissappear. He wanted to be normal. Though, the possibility seemed impossible. He was Alfred's. Only Alfred's.

If you were to look at the couple from a distance. They looked normal.

What happened inside, was another story.

You would never think that Alfred would tie him down to the bed and thrust in that dry unprepared hole and fuck him until he bled and bled. The red substance pooling down his thighs and onto the bed sheets. His knuckles turned white from gripping on and crying out. Arthur imagined he deserved it. He did wrong and this is was his eternal punishment.

The British man and the American man.

Arthur missed his smile the most. The smile he wore when he was around other people. He never smiled like that around him anymore. It was always fake. Alfred truely hated him and pretended so he could break him down further. Why? He was evil. Heartless.

He wanted his smile. Just to smile. Smile for him once more. Was that too much to ask? It must be. He knew he was worthless. Life was pointless. That's why he did it. This was his story. The story of the unloved, the beaten and damned.

Arthur Kirkland.

Age 23.

Suicide.


End file.
